


Quiet Now

by stardropdream



Series: Captain Porthos du Vallon of the King's Musketeers [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porthos bites at the inside of his cheek and just manages to swallow down a groan.  “If someone <i>were </i>in here, you’d have given us away by now.” (post season 2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Now

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr for the prompt of Aramis sucking Porthos off under his captain desk.

Porthos breathes out steadily through his nose – a practice through breathing. He splays his legs open a bit more, his knee bumping against the underside of the table. 

Aramis lets out a keening, delighted little sound as he squirms closer, mouth curled around the head of Porthos’ cock. 

Porthos bites at the inside of his cheek and just manages to swallow down a groan. “If someone _were_ in here, you’d have given us away by now.” 

Aramis plans his hands on Porthos’ thighs, looking up at him from under the desk, his mouth smiling even with the cock between his lips, suckling a little – and there’s that wicked twist of his tongue that always makes Porthos moan and he only _just_ manages to clamp down on the sound. He rocks up helplessly, a full-body movement that makes the desk squeak as it moves abruptly a few inches to the right. Aramis chuckles, breathless, squirming closer between his legs. His fingers stroke down over his cock, slowly, leisurely – and he lets out a tiny whine when Porthos moans out, rolls his head back, and lifts his hip. 

“Not quiet,” Aramis warns him, drawing back from his cock in order to kiss and lick down the length of it – pillowing his lips, peppering kisses, his fingers squeezing at the base, the thick girth of him, the slide of his palm – takes him into his mouth again, heavy against his tongue. 

“Your fault,” Porthos reminds him, laughing. 

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Captain,” Aramis purrs out, pressing hurried kisses over Porthos’ stomach, the cut of his hip. “You,” he whispers out, licking at his inner thigh, “are,” down across his balls, tonguing at the base of his cock, “truly,” lips over the underside of his cock, “distracting,” and mouth around his cock again – laving his tongue along the crown, suckling, licking at the slit. 

Porthos’ hand drops down, twists up into his hair – drags him in closer, drags him down. Aramis makes a pleased, whining sound and goes where commanded – ducks his head and swallows around him, opens his mouth wider to drag down over Porthos’ cock. He starts bobbing in time to Porthos’ needy little thrusts, hands pressed to his thighs for leverage. 

Then Aramis bumps his head hard against the underside of the desk and curses out, drawing away and pouting up at Porthos. Porthos laughs, smoothes his hand through his hair, drags his hand down to cup his cheek, thumb brushing along the swollen bottom lip of Aramis’ smiling mouth.

“We have to get better at this,” Porthos tells him.

Aramis laughs. “You especially,” he teases, squirms out from under the desk to lean up and kiss Porthos sloppily. “How can I hide under here and service you during meetings if it’s going to be written all over your face?” 

He presses short kisses over Porthos’ cheeks, warmed and red from the exertion and pleasure. Aramis’ fingers curl lazily around Porthos’ cock and begin to stroke as he squirms up into Porthos’ lap. 

“We’ll get there,” Porthos decides as Aramis starts laughing, “just gotta practice.” 

(Four weeks later, they manage it – Porthos discussing guard rotations while Aramis drags his tongue down low over his cock. Porthos manages to keep a face, but only just – getting breathless towards the end and quickly dismissing the other musketeers so he can throw Aramis onto the desk.)


End file.
